


Frostbitten

by AzulDemon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Baby It's Cold Outside, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzulDemon/pseuds/AzulDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxwell has come perilously close to death once again.  Dorian isn't pleased but, as always, is there to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frostbitten

**Author's Note:**

> Pulled this down from my potential fics. 
> 
> This is part of a series that will be comprised of glimpses into the relationship between my Inquisitor and Dorian meant to supplement the already awesome relationship that Bioware gave us. Might not be linear.
> 
> As always, the world of Dragon Age and the characters within do not belong in me. All the credit goes to Bioware.
> 
> Enjoy!

His teeth were chattering so hard in his mouth it felt like they would shatter against one another into splintery, ivory shards at any moment. His whole body was trembling in violent stuttering waves. He clutched the wool blankets around him in a vein attempt warm himself but it felt like ice particles were floating though his veins, glaciers on a crimson river. He tried to draw on his mana; to use the Fade to will fire into the frigid world around him but he couldn't concentrate, plus he had expended his mana reserves in the fight with the demons and sealing that last rift.  
  
It had been a pitched battle, one that had left each member of his party pushed within an inch of their limits. Maxwell had been hit with a particularly powerful ice spell from a despair demon that refused to go down. His barrier had taken the brunt of the attack but it had still left him with a fine sheet of frost coating his body. A timely fireball from Dorian managed to catch the demon unaware while it's focus had been on Max, which had then given Cassandra the opening she had needed to drive her sword through its ghastly maw. Max had then quickly moved to close the rift before more demons could spew from it but, just as he was finishing, the ledge he had been standing on began to give way. Rather than run (like a sensible person) he kept his focus on the rift, mending the tear in the veil and then (for what must be the hundredth time) he was falling to his apparent demise. Fortunately, he managed to fall into a fairly massive snowdrift. Unfortunately, the snow had soaked him to the bone and the fall had knocked him unconscious. He had awoken sometime later as Iron Bull was carrying him into the camp slung unceremoniously over one shoulder like a sack of grain.  
  
_That must have been an inspiring sight for the troops._ Max thought glumly.  
  
The flaps to his tent fluttered open and a cold gust whistled in, sharp and biting. It caused Maxwell wince and tense and retreat further into the huddle of blankets. Dorian ducked in and shut the strips of fabric closed behind him. Even in a mundane movement such as that he still managed to look dashingly rhythmic. Max had once thought it was an act, a deliberate show, but now he knew it was almost as natural to the Vintish man as breathing.  
  
"You knnnoooow," Dorian intoned. "I _distinctly_ remember telling you to wear armor that was enchanted to be highly cold resistant. 'Emprise du Lion is a proper frozen shit hole' I said." He spun to look at Max, the corners of his mouth upturned in a mocking grin. "But did you listen to the council of your wise and handsome young mage? Nooooo." He sauntered over in an almost predatory manner. "And now here you are, half frozen to death and naked as the day you were born."  
  
Max scrunched his face in what he hoped was a fierce scowl but somehow he did not believe he quite managed the feat. Normally he would come back at Dorian with some manner of witty banter but the ice, it seemed, had also reached into his brain and slowed his thoughts.  
  
Dorian chuckled as he neared and Max knew his expression must be utterly pathetic. "At a loss for words I see." He crouched in front of him and his smile widened.  
  
"Y-you w-w-were right." Max managed between chatters. "T-there…s-said i-it…h-h-happy…"  
  
"Oh Amatus," Dorian's tone was suddenly somber, his grey eyes tender as his hand came up and cupped Max's jaw gently. "I grow so tired of watching you fall to your apparent death." He sighed and his thumb rubbed warm comforting circles against Max's cheek. "Each time I think 'this is it, he's finally managed to go where I cannot follow, I've followed him into the bloody Fade for Maker's sake, but now he's finally managed it.'"  
  
"S-s-sorry," Max uttered. "I-I don't d-do it o-on purpose."  
  
Dorian smiled but it did not ignite his eyes into playful, silvery fire like it normally did. "Sometimes I sincerely wonder."  
  
When Max went to object Dorian silenced him with a kiss. It was not intense and full of passion and hunger like so many of their kisses were. It was velvety and sweet.  
  
"You did this to me, you know." And there was a familiar spark in Dorian's eyes again. "Got me all devoted and sappy."  
  
"Y-you were a-always a s-sap." Max returned gritting his teeth as he smiled.  
  
Dorian made an affronted noise and cocked his head. "I was nothing of the sort. I'm a terrible Tevinter Magister all demons, darkness, and blood magic."  
  
"L-liar…"  
  
"Andraste's left tit, how are we supposed to properly flirt with you glaciating this way?" Dorian bemoaned.  
  
Max managed a shrug.  
  
Dorian tisked lightly and held out his hand, palm facing upward. There was a flicker and then suddenly a ball of orange flame bloomed and hovered above his hand. He moved his hand out to Max's left and then tipped it, leaving the flickering flame to float in midair. Max could already feel the blissful waves of heat wafting toward him and he hummed out a happy breath. Dorian repeated the processes with his left hand depositing another floating flame on Max's right. Over and over he went until there was a bobbing ring of fireballs circling him. It seemed a small bit of magic but Max knew better. Fire was an unwieldy force, it wanted to explode and grow, it amplified the natural intoxication magic gave you that made you feel invincible. To maintain so many delicate flames in midair was an astounding display of finesse and control.  
  
Max closed his eyes and tried to draw the heat into himself but still the shivers wracked his body. He felt like he would never be warm again. He was pulled from his miserable musings when Dorian rose to his feet. For half a moment he had thought he was leaving but before he could protest Dorian's hands went to his lightly armored robes. Max gawked as he meticulously unfastened the buckles, releasing the studded leather strap that crossed his torso letting it tumble to the floor with a thud. Then he was unwrapping the Dales loden wool robes and folding them neatly and placing them down on the lone stool that occupied the tent. Max was transfixed and staring like a fool. One would think he had never seen the other mage undress before but Dorian always managed to turn the act into a sensual art form that never failed to leave Max spellbound. Max licked his wind-chapped lips absently.  
  
"What?" Dorian asked, having taken notice of Max's ogling. He was peeling off the padded leather armor that always peaked beneath his robes.  
  
"Umm…n-nothing…" Max replied. His cheeks would have gone red if he had any warmth in him.  
  
Dorian had gotten his leathers off and was now naked from the waist up. He lifted his arms over his head and stretched, his lean muscles going taught with the motion. Max licked his lips again. Dorian knelt and went to work on his boots.  
  
"Oh for pity's sake Max," he sighed dramatically. " _This_ is how you get warm." The boots were off and Dorian was unlacing his breeches.  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"Not that!" Dorian chided with mock incredulity. "Honestly Amatus, for our divine savior you certainly are singularly focused on certain… _carnal_ desires."  
  
Max lowered his eyes. _Dear brain, would you mind picking up the pace?_ He hated not being able to jape back at Dorian; it was such a central dynamic in their relationship.  
  
Dorian chuckled and continued his lecture. "You _see_ , when a reckless individual gets themselves frozen half to death you must first strip them of the cold wet clothing, then _someone_ must see to the task of getting naked as well and pressing in close to this frozen fool to help warm them." For all his scolding, Dorian's eyes were hooded and his tone was low and husky. He dropped his breeches to the floor, stepped out of them, and made his way toward the huddle of blankets.  
  
Max swallowed hard.  
  
"Well?" Dorian asked looking down at him.  
  
Max just stared.  
  
"Aren't you going to let me in?"  
  
"O-oh!" Max fumbled the blankets open hurriedly, eager to share them with Dorian, eager to have their skin pressed up close, eager to feel Dorian's warmth against him.  
  
Dorian crouched in and moved in tight against him. "Maker's breath!" He exclaimed. "You are ice to the touch."  
  
Max puffed out a laugh and leaned into him, wanting to be as close as possible. Dorian continued his tirade of complaints but his arms went around him and Max continued his quest to put as much of their skin into contact as possible. He wrapped his own arms around Dorian's torso and nuzzled his nose into the crook of Dorian's neck. Dorian's skin prickled at Max's cold touch, but warmth finally began to seep into Max's body. He wasn't sure if it was the floating orbs of fire, the blankets, or if it really was Dorian's naked presence up close beside him, but he didn’t really care. The scent of Dorian greeted him, cinder, leather, musk, and sandalwood. He felt Dorian's lips go to his hair and press a kiss there. Then Dorian shifted, moving to lie down and drawing Max down with him onto the fur pelt. He tugged the blankets tightly around them and Max burrowed into the other mage, arms folded between their bodies and his face pressed into the young man's chest. Dorian held him firmly and entangled their legs and began trailing long, slow, warm kisses down from Max's temple to his shoulder. The kisses were not meant to stoke their lust, they were meant to soothe and comfort. He could feel Dorian's own relief for Max's safety in those kisses; he could feel Dorian’s desire to make him feel better.  
  
_When did that happen?_ Max sighed and wondered pleasantly to himself. When had it shifted from the roaring fires of passion to the soft warm glow of... _love?_...Max had always known that he wanted more from Dorian than just “fun” or a “port in a storm”...but he also hadn't necessarily expected love either. He wanted to say it, wanted to say those three words out loud, but found he was suddenly afraid. He was suddenly worried that Dorian might not feel the same. Unbidden, all the times Dorian had seemed ready for their relationship to end or dismiss it as a bit of fun came to his mind. It left him feeling a pained sense of doubt in his chest and so he kept those simple, yet loaded words to himself.

He rationally knew that Dorian’s guarded nature was a means of defense from the way he had been treated in the past, the way Tevinter viewed relationships between two men. There were many times when Max was utterly certain Dorian felt the same way. But fear continued to gnaw at him and cause him to hold his tongue. He could face down Red Templars, demons, dragons, and Undead Magisters; but he could not bring himself to be so bold as to be completely open with how he felt toward the man who occupied his bed more nights than not.

Max forced himself to push those rumination’s from his head and focused on the feel of Dorian’s sturdy, comforting presence. He would find the courage one day. For now, he would savor the time they had. Tomorrow was not guaranteed for either of them, as Dorian had pointed out a few a weeks ago. So he squirmed happily into his Tevinter Paramour and hummed out a low contented noise.

Dorian maintained his snug hold and planted periodic kisses wherever he could reach without loosening his hold. He began to regale Max with tales of his adolescence in Tevinter and the various antics that would result in him being expelled from one circle and another. Max closed his eyes and imagined this younger version of Dorian, impossibly brash and filled with boyish angst. Max smiled and let the growing warmth and comforting tenor of Dorian’s voice begin to lull him to sleep.  
  
"Promise me something Max." Dorian ceased his storytelling and his tone had become uncharacteristically serious.  
  
"Hmm?" Max inquired from the edges of sleep.  
  
"Promise me you'll never go where I cannot follow you."  
  
That pulled max from the downy haze of sleep. He shifted his head to angle it towards the young man. "Dorian, you know I can't—"  
  
"I _know_..." Dorian growled in irritation, his face pressing into Max’s hair dulling the rest of his words. "I know you can't really promise that...but...I just need to know you'll do everything in your power to try and keep that from happening. You can be so reckless with your life, always so devoted to others and the greater good and whatnot—and I adore that about you—but I need you to remember that if something happened to you…I-I don’t know what I’d do…I do know actually, I’d very likely drown myself in all manner of alcoholic beverages." He turned his head so his cheek now rested on the crown of Max’s head and his voice cleared and Max could hear the raw emotion in it. Dorian took a deep breath. “I need to know you’ll always fight like hell to get back to me. I need to know that I—we—are a priority…because…erm…because…I—you see…Makers ass, make words Pavus!”

Max literally ached hearing Dorian’s words and feeling the emotion behind them. “I love you Dorian.” He blurted, tilting his head up to look at the other young man.

Dorian’s eyes went wide before his head lunged suddenly forward and he caught Max’s lips in a desperate kiss that left him panting.

“Maker’s breath…always the bold one while I trip over my own words.” Dorian’s voice was filled with affection and awe. “I love you Maxwell Trevelyan…more than I ever believed possible.”

And that was everything Max had ever needed and all he desired was to kiss the other mage senseless; and he did, because Dorian loved him and at that moment nothing else mattered.

 


End file.
